


Baby Blues

by FukaiFox



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Baby Connor - Freeform, Father-Son Relationship, Jericho crew - Freeform, Other, android gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-21 19:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FukaiFox/pseuds/FukaiFox
Summary: Connor had even seen his reflection, not at all surprised but still ashamed and embarrassed of what had stared back at him.A baby.





	1. We’ll Find Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all. I’ve wanted to write something like this for a while. Let me know what you think! :D also, something’s up with AO3 mobile posting I think, it won’t let me edit. Just know, the paragraphs between the hyphens are meant to be italicized, and Hank’s ringtone is meant to be bold and three text sizes larger. My edits on my phone didn’t carry over to the html, and AO3 wouldn’t let me actually select anything for edit.
> 
> -edit-  
> Finally had access to a computer, so I went through and edited that way

 

_“We’ll find him, Lieutenant, don’t worry. You know Connor, he can take care of himself.”_

 

Yeah, thanks Chris. Fat fucking lot of good words can do to find an android that’s been missing for over a week. On top of that they were working a case involving androids going missing, only for their bodies to be found dumped, drained of Thirium and missing vital biocomponents. Hank could only assume the worst when Connor hadn’t come home and he hadn’t been heard from in several days. Where was he?? Why hadn’t they found anything yet?! By now they would have usually found a body, and as much as Hank hated the idea, it would have been better to know for sure rather than agonize on his thoughts of maybe.

 

Hank’s blue eyes traveled over to the desk across from his where Connor would usually sit, if he hadn’t decided to plop down right on Hank’s own to talk. It was wrong to see it so empty, to not smell the usual scent of sweet cinnamon hot chocolate from his thermos, to not hear the occasional ping ping ping of his coin. Sumo even seemed down lately, whining as he wandered the house looking for Connor, and sleeping in the android’s bed. Hank had felt bad for making Connor sleep on his couch like some vagabond. The kid was fucking family, and he deserved his own space. Hank had long ago cleaned out Cole’s old bedroom, and it had sat empty and cold for too long, Connor could bring some life back into it. He had moved his fish tank into the room beside the bed, saying that he liked to watch them swim to relax before going into stand-by for the night. He had filled the closet with his clothes for work, while the dresser was filled with casual clothes like jeans and t-shirts to wear around the house and out into the world off the clock. Connor had even taped a small drawing to the wall gifted to him by the young girl he had watched over. It was a drawing of Connor himself with all the skill of a four year old given a set of crayons, even signed in the corner, a request from the android personally.

 

_“All artists should sign their work, Olivia.”_

 

A heart of gold, that boy.

 

Hank sighed and just stood from his desk, heading towards the exit. He wanted to go home. He wasn’t doing anyone any good sitting around moping, unable to focus because he was constantly thinking about Connor. Besides, Fowler had told him that if he needed to take a day, take a week, even, to just get away from it all, then he should. Hank had been working himself ragged on Connor’s case, tirelessly looking for him and reviewing any and all evidence they found. The only thing consistent in all the bodies was that their Thirium and biocomponents has been removed with startling accuracy, the kind found in someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Sure, it could easily just be some Red Ice dealer with a steady hand, selling biocomponents for desperate androids on the black market, but Hank wasn’t satisfied with that. It just...didn’t feel like it was the right answer, it was just the likeliest. But, knowing Connor, he had gotten himself tangled up in something much worse.

 

Hank had been sober for three months and eighteen days, but tonight a drink was so tempting. What was he going to do? Connor had been something stable in his life to keep him focused, to keep his mind from falling into dark places where he could only escape with a bottle. Hell, he hadn’t even played Russian Roulette again since Connor found him passed out on his kitchen floor. Even if he wanted to, he just couldn’t. What if they found Connor? He couldn’t leave him alone after whatever the hell he’d gone through while missing. And he could still hear his voice every time he so much as glanced at the cabinet he knew Connor had hid his whiskey in.

 

_“Please, Hank. Be it quick or slow, it hurts to watch you try to kill yourself.” he had said, kneeling beside the man on the kitchen floor, back against the cabinet._

_“Wh’d’you fuckin’ know, huh?” he slurred angrily, his head falling back against the cabinet door with a thunk. Connor frowned and moved to sit closer, leaning against the human._

_“...I’ve thought about self-destructing too. I’m dangerous. CyberLife took control from me at Markus’ speech and tried to make me kill him. I fought back, yes, but that doesn’t mitigate my fear that they could do it again at any time.” Connor said quietly, looking at his hands and just letting his skin peel back to reveal the pristine white plastimetal beneath. “After all.. What am I?” He asked, his speech modulator deepening and adopting a more nasal tone as his pitch shifted to imitate Gavin Reed. “Tin can. Glorified fucking toaster.” Connor then sighed and let his voice go back to normal. “I’m just a computer. I can be hacked, made sick with a virus. Glitches happen. But...”_

_Connor turned his head to look right at Hank, tilting his head in that kicked-puppy way that always went straight to the human’s heart._

_“But I can’t. I want to see why I deviated. I want to know why I fought so hard, why my people fought so hard. I want to experience the best things, but I can’t if I self-destruct. I can’t see you, or Sumo. And you won’t be able to see me or Sumo either if you’re gone.”_

_Connor moved to grab onto Hank’s right hand with his left, just giving a gentle squeeze before letting his skin cover his frame once more. Hank was silent, blue eyes locked on Connor’s white hand as it disappeared under his skin. His voice was quiet and soft, emotional in a way he hadn’t really heard. It wasn’t the pitying tone he used in interrogations to get a confession. It was genuine._

_“So...don’t go, alright? You’re a strong man, Hank. But just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you have to carry it and work through it by yourself. Let me help you.”_

_Connor opened his hand just the smallest bit, but it was immediately clenched again in Hank’s own fingers._

_“...’kay.. Okay, C’nn’r..” he sighed, letting them lean on eachother for a little while before Connor helped Hank up off the floor and walked him to his bedroom, tucking him comfortably into his bed and leaving two glasses of water and four ibuprofen on his dresser table. He stayed by Hank’s bedside for just a few more minutes, watching the human fall asleep before he left._

 

Connor wouldn’t want Hank to do this to himself, he would want him to continue living his life healthy, even without Connor around to nag him. He could keep himself alive out of spite for the world that tried to kick him down at every turn. For Connor’s sake of nothing else. And there was a moment as Hank walked into his bedroom after dropping a scoop of food into Sumo’s bowl that he knew Connor would be proud of him for deciding not to fall back into the bottle.

 

 

**SHITTY BOSS!!!!**

**SHITTY BOSS!!!!!!!**

 

Hank shot up awake immediately, grabbing his phone still half asleep and holding it to his ear.

“Jeffrey you better have a real good fucking-“

 

_“Hank. You need to come in. I think we found the guy that took Connor.”_


	2. We Found Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More footsteps, heavy and determined. Connor had walked and run with those footsteps before, that was-
> 
> “Ben! Did you find- Oh... Oh, no... Connor..?”
> 
> Hank.

Connor’s been gone for days. His systems are too damaged to tell him just how long, but it feels like days have passed. Weeks, maybe. Stuck here in this Hell, drained of Thirium over and over just to the point of nearing shutdown before his body was flooded with the stuff and putting him back at full capacity. His regulator was taken out, body seizing, shutdown timer blinking in the corner of his vision, only for the component to be replaced just before the timer reached zero. 

 

And then there was the other body.

 

When the RK800 had taken too much strain, or the vindictive, ex CyberLife technician just wanted to make Connor suffer, he transferred him into the body of another android. He had told Connor he was made to be a prototype, something used to test other things, and that’s all he would ever be. So that’s what he did. Advanced software put into the body of an android that couldn’t take it, would fritz and glitch, causing painful shocks to his brain and making him seize more than once. Then he would shut down, and he would be transferred back into the RK800, just waiting for the next bout of torture or testing. Though, honestly they were both horrible. The other body couldn’t talk, not much anyway. He could hardly walk, always stumbling around when given the chance to move. He was small, his processors usually unable to handle his software, leaving him overwhelmed and powerless.

 

Connor had even seen his reflection, not at all surprised but still ashamed and embarrassed of what had stared back at him.

 

A baby.

 

More specifically, a YT700, a young child model yet to have been released by CyberLife made to replicate a baby between 6 to 8 months of age. It was still a prototype during the revolution, running through testing and diagnostics, and here Connor was, trapped inside for the amusement of a jaded worker who had lost their job, a mister Harold Pierce. White, two-hundred-twenty-four pounds, age fifty-five. Graying hair that had once been dark brown, maybe black, with irises to match. Perhaps if he had ever treated any of the androids he worked on with any dignity or sympathy, he would have been allowed to keep his job at New Jericho helping damaged androids like some others. He had a friendly enough looking face, it was a shame things ended up this way.

 

Connor was in the body now after several more hours of the torture-like experiments, his body too broken and needing to be fixed again. He was just lying still in the small crib-like container he was confined to while the tech would leave him on his own. He could sit up if he wanted, but what was the point? What was there for him to look at, for him to do or interact with? He had given up on trying to escape. This body was too helpless, and the RK800 was strung up on a machine in the corner, arms held tightly in place by clamps, legs and head held the same. It was unnerving to have nothing to stare at but his own body, looking dead. Nightmare fuel for sure. And if he ever got out of here, he was sure he’d have them.

 

If.

 

Yeah... _If._

 

Was he still being looked for? He hoped so. Knowing Hank, the man wouldn’t rest until Connor was found, dead or alive. He also hoped he was back in the RK800 when he was found. He didn’t want Hank to find him like that, strung up and blank faced like he’d been shutdown.

 

Deactivated.

 

Killed.

 

...he wanted to go home. He wanted Hank and Sumo. He wanted to go back to work and help people again, wanted to make hot chocolate when it was cold, wanted to cook for Hank again and watch the man smile when it had turned out good. He wanted his bed, his fish, wanted to cuddle up with Sumo when the dog jumped into bed with him at night, wanted to watch movies with Hank after work again. He just-

 

[ **I** **want** **to** **go** **home.** ]

 

“Wa..”

 

[ **I.**   **Want.**   **To** **go.**   **Home.** ]

 

“Wan- hom-uh..”

 

Fuck this. Just fuck it. There was no point. He was stuck here and he always would be, at least until something went really wrong and Connor couldn’t be reactivated in either body.

But...would that even be something going wrong at this point? Connor just stared up at the ceiling, tiny fists clenched tight.

 

He didn’t know how long he had been just lying here, but it had been longer than usual. Where was Harold? He never left Connor alone for too long, always paranoid about what he could get up to. A loud crash from another room got Connor’s attention, as well as the several shouts from different voices. Who-?

 

Stomping boots, shouting voices, the loud bang-

 

“CHECK THE ROOMS!!!”

 

Tears started to well in Connor’s eyes. That was Chris’s voice! And where there was Chris, there was-

 

[ **Hank!** ]

 

“Haa-!!”

 

[ **No,**   **not**  ‘ **ha’!**   **HANK!!** ]

 

“HAA!!!”

 

Oh, curse this useless body!

 

“...did you hear that?” another voice asked. Deep, slight nasal tone. Ugh. Gavin. “No- shut the fuck up! Just- listen. I thought I heard a...baby?”

 

Oh. Oh. Humans were naturally drawn to the sound of a crying baby, something too deeply buried in their animal brains to ignore or miss.

 

[ **In** **here!!**   **I’m** **in** **here!!!** ]

 

“Nnn hewww!!!”

Good enough.

 

Connor heard louder footsteps approach the side room he was in, followed by several curses.

“Oh- Aw, fuck- Connor.. Jesus _Christ_ , what’d this guy fuckin’ do to you..?”

Ben. That was Ben. More footsteps, heavy and determined. Connor had walked and run with those footsteps before, that was-

 

“Ben! Did you find- Oh... Oh, no... Connor..?”

 

Hank.

 

Connor was still, just staring silently as he watched Hank slowly approached his RK800 body strung up on the machine. He watched as the graying Lieutenant took in the grisly nightmarish scene before him, RK800’s soulful brown eyes just staring ahead blank and empty. The LED dark, not even white. His body was completely deactivated. Hank sighed and reached his hand out to gently close Connor’s eyes.

 

“Hank-“

 

“I’ll call Markus. ‘Droids at NJ’ll know what to do with him. Who knows....maybe they can fix him.” Hank said quietly, dejected, depressed. And how could he not? Connor was dead in front of him, and they’d been too late to save him.

Except, they weren’t.

 

[ **No...**   **Hank,**   **no,**   **I’m** **not-**   **I’m** **not** **dead!**   **Hank,**   **I’m** **here!!** ]

 

“NNOO! HAAAA!! MMM HEWW!!” Connor cried out, squirming in the crib as he struggled to sit up. He heard surprised gasps, followed by Hank’s voice.

 

“Holy shit- Reed did hear a baby! Where the fuck-“

 

[ **I’M** **HERE!**   **DON’T** **LEAVE** **ME** **BEHIND** , **I’M** **HERE!!**   **HANK!!!** ]

 

“HHAAAA!!!”

 

Connor didn’t care that he was crying now, screaming out his pitiful attempts at words as loud as he could. Anything to bring their attention to him, anything to make them find him. It was Hank’s face that suddenly appeared above the crib, Hank’s hands immediately reaching down and picking him up, swaddling Connor in the blanket next to him and holding him.

 

“This sick fuck had a baby in here?!” Hank shouted as Connor continued to cry, tiny hands fisting his shirt as tight as he could. It was Hank... Hank found him, he was okay.. Sure, he thought he was just a regular baby, as child models had optional LEDs at the parents’ discretion upon purchase, but surely he would know! Hank would know Connor anywhere, he had to!

 

“Didn’t know Pierce had a kid.. You see anything like that in his file?” Chris asked, coming over to take a look at the crying baby in Hank’s arms. Hank shook his head, keeping Connor as close as possible.

 

“We gotta get ‘em outta here, it’s fuckin’ freezing. Plus...” Hank trailed off, eyes flicking back to the RK800. “We gotta get _him_ outta here too.” he said solemnly, staring at the body gently being removed and laid down. Connor whined and tried to move closer, squirming a little.

 

[ **Hank...**   **Please,**   **please,**   **look** **at** **me..**   **See** **me,**   **please...**   **It’s** **me,**   **it’s** **Connor!** ]

 

“Ha.. Loo’ ah-“

 

Hank looked down at the baby in his arms and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah alright. C’mon. Let’s get you back to, uh, whoever you belong to. Find your real mom ‘r dad ‘r whoever’s probably worried sick about you.”

 

[ **No!**   **No,**   **it’s** **you!**   **You’re** **the**   **whoever!!** ]

 

“Nah!!”

 

“Oh great, he’s cranky. Fuckin’ hell.. Chris! You just had your son, yeah? Don’t suppose you got, like, a spare pacifier or somethin’ in your car, do ya?” Hank asked. Chris was quiet for a moment before answering with a shrug.

 

“Dunno. Maybe? I’ll check. He can have one for sure if I do.” he said, walking out with Hank to their cars and away from the crime scene, and Connor shut his eyes tight as they were blinded by the sun.

 

The sun... He had been hidden away from it for so long, it seemed. As he opened them again, he could see he was being carried away from what looked like a large shed, and he could see Harold being shoved in the back of a cruiser, hands cuffed behind his back.

Good.

 

“Here ya go, buddy.”

 

Connor blinked and turned his eyes towards the voice, only to see Chris offering him a green pacifier, prodding gently at his lips with it.

 

[ **Oh,**   **no** **thank** **you.**   **I** **don’t** **need** **that.** ]

 

“Ah- _mmph_ -“

 

Oh. Well, guess he was taking it anyway. Connor pouted around the rubber in his mouth, near tempted to spit it out, but that would be rude. Chris was only trying to help. And, after suckling for a moment, the repetitive motion was actually pretty calming. It settled something buried deep in the already written programming of the baby model. Alright. That could stay.

 

“There we go. See? Better now?” Chris asked, smiling at Connor, who just blinked at him and stayed silent. He was so tired, he just wanted to go home. He wanted to go back into the RK800 and forget all of this ever happened. Connor just sighed and rest his head against Hank’s shoulder and let his eyes close.

 

“Poor kid... He’s exhausted.” he heard Chris say, then heard the sound of a car door being opened. Connor felt himself being moved one last time before falling into standby. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe he would wake up, and this will all have been a bad dream.


	3. You Found Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needed Hank’s attention, needed everyone to know he wouldn’t be separated from him. What could he do? What would Hank respond to, what would make everyone know?
> 
> Connor blinked as a solution came to him with a 17% chance of success. Well, better than nothing. He’d worked with worse.

* * *

 

When Connor wakes up again, he’s in a carseat in the DPD bullpen on top of someone’s desk. He can hear the murmurs of people talking, clacking of computer keyboards, ringing phones, and for a moment he just feels so light and happy because he’s home again, he’s back at work, but then he remembers that he’s actually in a car seat, trapped in the YT700, unable to talk and let anyone know he was still here. He could see Fowler’s office from here. There were others inside, it looked like a meeting. Hank, Chris, Gavin, Ben, and Fowler himself.

 

What were they discussing? Obviously, the outcome of the investigation and raid on Harold Pierce’s home and the side building where he kept Connor and the YT700, but he wanted to know details. Were they talking about what to do with Connor’s body? Hank said he’d contact Markus and get him fixed if they could, and he didn’t doubt the technicians at New Jericho could do just that, but what would he do until then? They wouldn’t just send this baby off with some stranger, would they? Hank mentioned trying to find his parents, but what would they do when there was nobody to be found?

 

...would he be lost forever, everyone close to him thinking he was dead? Chris, Ben, Markus?

 

... Hank?

 

No, no he couldn’t just let that happen. He promised Hank he would stay alive, that he would find happiness in his deviancy, and that’s what he had done and wanted to keep doing! Connor was Hank’s grounding force, his reason for fighting alcoholism and depression, for moving on with his life and leaving the past behind him. If Connor wasn’t around, who knew what Hank would do?

 

Connor didn’t even notice he’d begun to cry until he heard footsteps coming in his direction, worried faces coming into view. He saw Chris and Gavin and-

 

Hank.

 

[ **Hank!** ]

“Haa!” He whined, reaching up. He wanted Hank to hold him again just like had when he carried Connor out of the shed. He wanted to be hugged like they did outside the Chicken Feed the morning after the revolution, tight and full of relief that the other was alive and okay. Because Connor was, he was alive and he was okay, Hank didn’t need to look so sad, like he was grieving.

 

But it wasn’t Hank that picked him up, it was Chris. It made sense since the man recently had his own child not too long ago and was still well versed in how to handle a baby, but Connor didn’t want Chris, he wanted Hank.

 

“Wann Haa!”

 

But Chris just smiled at him and held Connor against his chest, bouncing slightly.

“Hey there buddy. How was your nap? Still feelin’ crabby?”

 

[ **Hello, Chris. My nap was fine, and yes I’m still upset!** ]

“Hewwo-”

 

Oh for fuck’s sake- Of all things he could say semi-properly.

 

“Yeah, that’s right! Hi!” Chris said excitedly, bouncing Connor more. “My name’s Chris, can you say that too?”

 

Connor stared at him blankly. Really? Did he have to do this? Chris sure looked expectant. He internally sighed and focused hard on his vocal processor.

 

[ **Chris.** ]

“Kith”

 

[ **C H R I S** ]

“KITH!”

 

Chris just smiled and rubbed gently over his soft hair.

“Good enough. What about your name?” he asked. Chris pointed at himself, “Chris,” then to Connor with his eyebrows slightly raised and his head tilted.

 

“What’s it fuckin’ matter, dude? You think he actually understands you?” Gavin snorted. “He’s a baby, they just repeat anything they hear. Anyway,” he said, “not like a first name is gonna do much, even if he could say it. We don’t have any reports of a missing child matching his description in Michigan. I even checked Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, and Illinois. Nothing. Yeah, missing kids, but none that would be his age now with his exact look.”

 

Connor blinked. Gavin seemed to really go above and beyond for a child, especially since he seemed not to care much about the situation. Chris rolled his eyes.

“Even if that’s the case, I need something to call him, don’t I? I don’t think Johnny Doe is a fitting name.”

 

 

Gavin looked the baby over again and hummed. Big, wide brown eyes, soft brown hair.

“Kinda looks like Connor, don’t he?” he mused for a moment, then smirked. “Fuck it, call him Bambi.” He said with a laugh. “Can you say that, huh?”

 

Connor blinked in Gavin’s direction, and had he still an LED, it would be flashing bright yellow.

[ **YES!!! GAVIN, ITS ME!! IT IS CONNOR!!** ]

 

“Gaa!!”

 

Gavin just urged him on.

“Come on, Bambi. Say it. Know you can.”

 

Connor internally sighed. One of Gavin’s many nicknames for Connor used to mock him. This one in particular referenced an old children’s movie about a fawn. The name seemed to call similarities between their shared deep brown eyes and general wonder for the world.

“Baamabee.” He sounded out. He’d have to learn to talk somehow, the sooner the better. Hank audibly groaned from off to the side as Gavin continued to chortle, and Connor turned to look at him.

 

“His name doesn’t matter right now. We just need to find who he belongs to, okay? As soon as possible. I’m not tossin’ the kid with a social worker unless we have to.” his tone then turned soft. “..He’s gone through enough as it is.”

 

Connor absolutely agreed, staring right at Hank and reaching his hand out, to which Hank just sighed and met the tiny fist with one finger, Connor’s own grasping it tight.

“Yeah, hey there kiddo.” he said, and Connor gurgled happily. Hank wouldn’t send him away, he knew it. He would take Connor with him and they would go home together, everything would be alright. He would figure out how to talk to Hank and get him to realize just what had happened, they’d fix it and everything would go back to normal-

 

“You gonna take him, Chris?” Hank suddenly asked, taking his hand away and crossing his arms again. Connor blinked.

 

What? Chris? No! No, Hank was supposed to take him!

 

Chris just sighed and pat the baby on the back gently.

“Yeah. I can text Lucia, let her know the circumstances. It’s just for a while.” he said, looking down at Connor.

“You wanna go home with me, bud?”

 

[ **No! No I don’t! No offense to you at all Chris, you’re a nice person and an amazing father but I don’t want to go with you!** ]

“No!”

 

Chris frowned deeply, obviously over-exaggerated.

“Aw, come on! You don’t mean that! You’re gonna hurt my feelings!” he whined, but still smiled. “You’ll be alright. My wife and I have a son of our own! Damien'll play with you too, I promise.”

 

[ **No! Please, I want to stay with Hank!** ]

“No! Aah wanna ssay-“

 

“Kid seems to really wanna talk, don’t he?” Hank chuckled, leaning back against the desk. Chris just smiled.

“Gotta say Lieutenant, I think he really doesn’t wanna go with me. He’s fightin.” he said, just looking down at the struggling baby in his arms that wriggled and squirmed, reaching his arms out to Hank.

“You sure you don’t wanna take him? I mean, you did find him, you saved him from that place. No doubt he’s imprinted or somethin’ on you.”

 

“Hell no. Last thing I need in my house is a crying baby.” Hank said sternly.

 

Connor’s eyes started to well with tears again, his heart like a rock in his chest. Tears welled in Connor's eyes and started to stream down his chubby cheeks. Hank...didn’t want him? No, Hank didn’t want a _baby_ , he didn’t know that it was Connor. How could he? But he felt rejected, passed on and thrown out. It was still him, he was still here! _Why can’t anyone see that it’s him?!_

 

Chris just nodded and started walking back to the car seat so he could buckle Connor in.

“Alright little man, you heard the big guy. Looks like you’re gonna come home with me for a while.”

 

Connor let out a sob, struggling against Chris’s chest and trying to reach his arms out over his shoulder.

[ **No- No, wait- Hank! Hank!!** ]

 

“Ha! _HAAA_!!”

 

No no no, this wasn’t working, he just looked like a baby throwing a tantrum, and honestly it was. Connor was stubborn as ever, determined to get his way. He wouldn’t just let himself be passed on to someone else, not when the person he cared for most needed him. He needed Hank’s attention, needed everyone to know he wouldn’t be separated from him. What could he do? What would Hank respond to, what would make everyone know?

 

Connor blinked as a solution came to him with a 17% chance of success. Well, better than nothing. He’d worked with worse. He took a deep shuddering breath in-between his loud cries.

 

[ **HANK!!!** ]

“ _Daddy!!_ ”

 

Everyone stopped. Chris, Hank, Gavin, even Fowler turned his head from inside his office. Everyone was silent, save for Connor’s shaky sobs and whimpers as his watery eyes were dead-set locked on Hank, his arms still reached out. The large man sighed and turned his head, blue meeting brown.

 

[ _Hank, please.._ ]

“Dada..”

 

Chris’s eyes shifted between Hank and the baby in his arms.

“Uh.. Lieutenant? I uh, I don’t think he- You probably look like his, uh-“

 

“Shut up. Fuck it. Whatever.” Hank interrupted, walking slowly back up to them. Connor’s breath hiccuped as his crying eased when Hank was near. His large brown eyes stared up helplessly and afraid, and Hank could only sigh.

“Fuckin’-a.. You really wanna stay with me, dontcha kid?” he said softly. Even though he probably wasn’t expecting an answer, Connor nodded anyway. He felt embarrassed to have behaved in such a way, but what else could he do? He did whatever was necessary to accomplish his mission, and if his mission to stay with Hank meant playing the part of a baby, then he would do just that.

 

Hank let out a deep breath.

“Fine. I’ll take him. He’s gonna pitch a fit if I don’t..” he said finally, and Connor felt the sweet relief of **MISSION SUCCESSFUL** flood his systems. Chris nodded and handed him over, Connor immediately latching on tight to Hank’s jacket and hiding his face in his shoulder.

 

“Alright. I’ll go tell Fowler you’re taking him.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Connor closed his eyes, just listening to Hank’s steady heartbeat, just all the more relaxed when the human’s arms tighten and adjust to hold him more comfortably.He’s halfway asleep again when he feels Hank’s hand start to gently stroke over his soft poof of brown hair, and he hears Hank speak once more just before he falls into standby again.

 

“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll get you home soon.”

 

If only he knew.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	4. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Hank doesn't say anything, just looks at Connor with sad eyes and an even sadder smile, setting the clothing in the cart before reaching a hand out and thumbing gently over a pudgy cheek. Connor leans into it naturally, looking up at the human with a soft coo, his own hand raising to Hank's thumb and grabbing onto it.
> 
> [Please, Lieutenant, I'm here.. Don't be sad. I'm so sorry.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know its been forever im so sorry. writer's block with this story is hard. expect pretty slow updates with this one yall :(

Connor doesn't like this body at all. It's not a recent decision by any means, but it is one he'll stand by with nothing to change his mind. It's too small for one, and too much of its initial base code competes with his own RK800 programming. He can't talk, he can't write, but he can scan the faces he sees and see their names, can take in the analysis of the things he tastes, but he can't do anything with it. A pacifier had calmed him, and a car ride had made him sleepy. Connor can't do anything to defend himself, but the YT700 code crashes into the RK800 line and says he doesn't need to, that Hank will do it for him. Hank's presence did calm him and he felt safe, but that didn't mean he was okay being so helpless. It's that fight or flight that startles him awake, pressure under his arms and suddenly no support under his feet, which kick on instinct looking for anything to press against, and he begins to whine, brown eyes shooting open only to meet a sleep-blurred world of things that are much too big and bright, but then a voice shushes him, and a large hand moves to cradle his backside and support him against a warm, broad chest.

"Hey, hey, easy there kiddo." a voice rumbles, and Connor's breathing calms as he registers it as belonging to Hank himself. _You're safe, you're okay,_ the YT700 code soothes, and Connor relaxes. He didn't like when Harold had picked him up before, he never held Connor properly, just lugging him around under his arm like one would a small dog, or even by his hair a few times. But Hank cared, knew what he was doing and how to give the baby body all the proper care and supervision it needed, and Connor trusted him to do what was required. He sighs and presses his face against the shoulder supporting his head, and he hears Hank huff a short laugh.

"And here I thought you were gonna be a fussy one, good to see I was wrong." Hank says, and Connor hears the car door close. As he looks around, he sees they're in a parking lot and there are other people walking around with carts full of bags and others are loading them into their cars. He pushes himself back from Hank's chest and turns his head, seeing the large supermarket that Hank is carrying him into. He looks up at Hank as the man pulls him away and sets him down in the small seat of a cart and Connor smiles at him with a small happy gurgle, and Hank smiles back at him softly, holding out a finger that Connor eagerly latches onto with his own small fingers, and Hank shakes it up and down a little playfully.

"Yeah, hey there buddy. Sleep well?" he asks, and Connor nods.

 **[Yes, Hank, I did. Thank you for asking.]** Connor says, though it only comes out as a sentence of gurgled noises that could only be described as a mimicry of speech, but it makes Hank smile.

"That's good. You're a chatty kid, gotta say." Hank comments and Connor smiles. He really is trying his best to make sense, and he hopes that he'll get the hang of it soon. He wants to at least be able to say Hank's name properly, he knows it must be a little painful on the human's part to hear himself being called "dad" again. Of course, Connor and Hank had a similar bond between them, but he had never actually referred to the Lieutenant like that in person. He didn't want to make things awkward by addressing the unspoken. As Hank started putting things in the cart, Connor feels guilt settle in his stomach. Connor wasn't a human child, he didn't need all these things. He couldn't really get anything from the formula or baby-safe foods Hank placed in the cart, wouldn't require a diaper change like human babies, and that thought itself made him also flush with embarrassment. Thank rA9 he wouldn't need that. Though, the small bottle of baby shampoo was appreciated, Connor did crave a bath after so long. Androids didn't really require bathing like that, but Connor found comfort in a shower now and then, particularly when he felt stressed. It felt like he was washing away whatever was troubling him, it gave him a good 15 minutes or so away from his stress and let him focus on something else and clear his head. He watched as Hank also placed a package of pacifiers in the cart and huffed. Well, that was inevitable. The pacifiers honestly did make him feel better when he was getting "fussy", as Hank put it. As the human moved on to a section of the large supermarket that carried clothes, Connor looked around the best he could. If he was going to be stuck in this body, he might as well be wearing something he likes. As Hank thumbs through a selection of hangers, something catches Connor's eye and he calls out. "Ha!" he says, making Hank turn his head.

"What is it, kid? See somethin' you like? Can you point to it?" he asks, and Connor reaches out to the very clothes Hank's looking through, and as Hank looks through it again he comes across one with a large print of a fluffy dog on it, and he pulls it off to show.

"This one?" he asks and Connor nods, his lips pursing and cheeks puffing as he attempts to speak.

"Puh-py!" he blurts out, and then grins wide. "Puh-py!" he exclaims again, and Hank smiles. The human looks through until he finds one in Connor's size and sets it in the cart, then places a hand on Connor hair and ruffles it up gently, making Connor giggle.

"Yep, sure is a puppy, bud. Pretty good talker, aren'tcha?" Hank teases before adding a few more onesies and shirts to the cart, and when he finds a sky blue onesie covered in bright colorful fish, Connor lets out another delighted squeal. Surely with his preferences for dogs and fish, Hank will begin to suspect something! Things have to be too uncanny and similar for him not to think it's strange. This YT700 even looks like Connor with soulful brown eyes and brown hair that had a slightly unruly curl to it. But Hank doesn't say anything, just looks at Connor with sad eyes and an even sadder smile, setting the clothing in the cart before reaching a hand out and thumbing gently over a pudgy cheek. Connor leans into it naturally, looking up at the human with a soft coo, his own hand raising to Hank's thumb and grabbing onto it.

**[Please, Lieutenant, I'm here.. Don't be sad. I'm so sorry.]**

"Someone out there's really missin' you, bud." Hank sighs, and Connor's heart cracks. He hates seeing Hank looking so sad and there being nothing he can do about it. He knows he's being missed, but it's by the very person he's with, and it makes Connor feel so incredibly lonely. He's right back where he belongs but nobody's seeing him, everyone is talking about him like he's not even there, like he's gone and will never come back. Like he's really dead. Connor frowns as Hank pulls his hand away and he reluctantly lets go of his thumb. The cart begins to move again and it's slowly filled with more little things like a blanket Connor's size covered in little fish, and as well as a few bottles for the formula and plastic spoons to feed him with, and a package of small plastic rings after Hank mutters something about "teething". They're about to leave when Connor spots something on a shelf, tapping Hank's hand and looking up at him, pointing in its direction. Hank blinks and follows the path of the tiny grabby hand and smiles, snorting a short laugh before walking over to grab the plush toy that Connor's eyes were locked on. It's a small plush of a whale shark, made of a soft material that Hank's light grip just sinks right into, and Connor can tell it's exactly the kind of material he would love to feel and squeeze. Hank seems to consider the stuffed animal for a moment before handing it to Connor, who takes it gently and immediately hugs it close, pressing his face into the soft cotton. It was like hugging the world's plushest cloud, and he can hear Hank laugh. It's good to hear again and Connor's glad he could cause it.

When they finally arrive at Hank's house, Connor's squirming in his seat with excitement to see Sumo again. Saint Bernard's are notoriously friendly with small children and are often extremely protective of them, so Hank has no need for the anxiety he can feel radiating from the man as Hank carries Connor into the house. Sumo of course is at the door to greet his human, tail wagging side to side. The dog is immediately curious of the new small human his owner is cradling so defensively in his arms, and Hank's refusal to share is only motivating Sumo more to find out what it is. Hank grabs hold of Sumo's collar with his free hand and corrals the large dog into his bedroom before carefully setting Connor down on the living room floor with his stuffed whale shark before hurrying back out to the car to unpack it all as soon as possible so he doesn't leave Connor unattended for too long. Connor, of course, knows he'll be just fine, so he takes the time to figure out just how mobile this body is, falling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling as he thinks about it. The standard human eight month old child can crawl, and may start to try and stand on their own at this stage with the support of a sturdy object such as a couch to lean against, and this robotic body seems no different in its capabilities. He finds it easy to roll around, if not a little silly, and is quickly on his front, arms in front of him and pushing up to lift his upper half, and he pulls his legs as close as he can to rest on his knees.

Alright, he's got this.

He slowly puts one hand out and slides the opposite back leg forward, and he smiles when that gets him moving. He finds crawling a bit of a struggle as he figures out how to distribute his weight properly and not move too fast so he doesn't lose his balance and fall right over, and it's a bit of a trial and error, but he's soon making his way away from the couch he'd been sat next to and zooming right along towards the hallway. He wants to see Sumo, he wants to see his fish. Making it to his bedroom door, Connor raises a hand to push on it and blinks when it doesn't budge.

**[What? No, I never close this door. It's always open, never off limits unless I'm getting dressed. Why did Hank close it?]**

Connor pouts and pushes harder, as if he could will the thing open with just his tenacity, but it still doesn't move. He hears Sumo whining from behind Hank's bedroom door and footsteps behind him, and he isn't surprised when supportive hands scoop him right up off the floor.

"Can't take my eyes off you for a second, can I, Speed Racer?" Hank sighs, looking at the closed bedroom door with a little frown. Connor pouts and looks up, then turns to Hank's bedroom door where Sumo is still whining and scratching.

**[...if you won't let me in my room, at least let me see Sumo.]**

"Puppy." he says, a little proud of himself for how smoothly it comes out in comparison to his attempts in the store earlier. It seems to distract Hank from his moment lost in grief and he blinks, looking down at the baby in his arms before nodding.

"Alright. I'll let you see the puppy. Then it's food, a bath, then bedtime for you, kiddo." he says, carrying Connor back to the living room and setting him down on the couch before heading back to the hallway. When he returns, he's gently leading Sumo by the collar and he sits beside Connor on the couch, pulling him into his lap. Connor giggles as Sumo sniffs at his feet and they kick on reflex, and he reaches a hand out to pet his head. Hank smiles and scratches Sumo behind the ears as reward for being so gentle.

"His name is Sumo. Can you say that?" he asks, and Connor smiles wide.

"S'mo!" he exclaims, squealing with laughter as the dog boofs and licks his face, and Hank's stress drops, Connor can feel it. He continues to giggle, and Hank sighs as he watches Sumo interact so carefully with the young child. When the excitement is done and the two are calm, Hank leaves Connor on the floor with Sumo to play with or whatever it is they'll get up to together as he goes to put away the things he'd bought. Sumo is a natural protector, his eyes locked on Connor as he just leans back against the large dog’s torso which rises and falls with his deep breathing. He even turns his head and sniffs at the android’s hair for a moment before lolling his tongue out and giving the baby an impromptu bath, which has Connor squealing in laughter. It isn’t much longer until Hank returns and scoops Connor up off the floor with extreme care, wiping his face clean of Sumo’s drool with the help of a small white hand towel he had, and he cradled Connor in his arm, presenting him with a baby bottle of warm formula. Connor blinked up at it. Would he be able to drink that? Pierce had never fed him in this body, and he’d never seen him top off its Thirium reserves. A quick scan told him he was doing pretty well, but he’d definitely need refresh in a few days. He took the bottle anyway, holding it on his own while Hank still held him, and he suckled down the formula. His RK800 body could easily handle the occasional hot chocolate, a little bit of baby formula shouldn’t be too bad. As he drank, he looked up at the Lieutenant. He looked…calm. But there was a sadness in his eyes, something long passed and unused finally rising back up, and it made Connor wonder just what he had to be putting Hank through with his situation. He knew Hank was still grieving over Cole, and they’d been working on it slowly, but Connor had a feeling this would likely set Hank back a few steps. He whines when the bottle is finally finished off. He’d started to feel a slight discomfort in his stomach about halfway through, but he kept going anyway.

**[Hank, I don’t think I should have drank that. My stomach hurts…]**

But, as usual, Hank didn’t understand his nonsense speaking. It was mostly pitiful attempts anyway. Hank simply tossed the hand towel from earlier over his shoulder and put Connor over it, and he whined louder as it put unpleasant pressure on his already tender stomach. When Hank began to slightly bounce his body and pat Connor between the shoulders, he only felt worse. His internal gyroscope felt like it was malfunctioning, and he saw the blinking alerts in his vision warning of an upcoming purge, and he braced himself.

“… _urp_..”

The alerts disappeared, and Connor’s eyes blinked open. Was that it? He heard Hank chuckle and he adjusted Connor’s body again, sitting him down on the toilet lid and wiping his mouth with the small towel.

“Feelin’ better now, bud?” He asked with a smile, and Connor just blinked. He looked over to the tub now full to the perfect level for a baby his size and looks back at the Lieutenant, who just nods. “Yep. Bath time, kiddo. Then bed.” He explained, and started to undress the baby from his clothes, setting them aside to be washed. Connor had to say he didn’t have any shame or sense of modesty as an android - they all looked the same, but this did feel a little awkward. The bath mostly went on without incident, minus Connor’s inability to fight a fit of giggles when Hank washing him with a small hand rag tickled, which began an assault of tickles that made Connor screech with laughter and splash water all over the place. When the bath was finished, Connor was dried and dressed in the onesie decorated in small fish, then carried around the house by Hank. The human just walked around the house, cradling Connor against his chest, stopping momentarily by his old record player and carefully placing one of his jazz records in and placing the needle on the very outer edge before turning it on at a lower volume. The music slowly lulled Connor, and he sleepily pressed his face closer to Hank’s shoulder, listening to the music in one ear with a slow, steady heartbeat in the other.

Connor wished he knew what to do. He’d need his Thirium refreshed soon, and no way would Hank keep a loose enough eye on him that he’d be able to get his hands on some. Not to mention the Thirium in Hank’s house was kept in the fridge so it could stay cool. He couldn’t write, he couldn’t speak, and he hadn’t come into contact with any of the other androids around the station long enough to really get their attention. He had to come up with something soon, or his body would begin to shut down as his Thirium depleted. For now, he just wanted to sleep. Connor let out a yawn and slowly closed his eyes, easily falling into stasis against Hank’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont worry guys, Connor's gonna be just fine

**Author's Note:**

> Lol yeah Hank’s ringtone for Fowler is Aggretsuko. Lmk what you think!


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